Druxy
by millenniumfork
Summary: Malik Ishtar is willing to aid Yami Bakura in his quest for a new body. He only requires one thing in return; his host. An alternate storyline from the ending of Battle City all the way to the end of the series. Angstshipping, Tendershipping, Tornshipping
1. Chapter 1

_**A druxy is a term for something that seems perfect on the outside, but is rotten on the inside.**_

This is going to be a multi-chapter story. Malik is the lighter half's name. The darker one will not be in this fic. It is an alternate storyline to Battle City, in which Bakura recovered Malik's body from dark Marik. Malik eventually conceded his point with the Pharoah, but did not undergo major character change and, as such, is still manipulative and controlling. He will still have the Millennium Rod.

This is a mature piece of fiction, with strong themes of homosexuality, lustful sex, manipulation of willpower, and power-play (Dominant/Submissive relationships.) If you don't like any of those things, don't read this. If you do, welcome. I enjoy them very much. We'll get along just fine.

I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, or any characters mentioned in this story. This is fan-fiction, and is for fun.

I have no clear end in sight for this story, but we'll see where it heads. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.

He awakened suddenly, without warning, as he always does; from a dreamless sleep and instantly alert.

_Ah, it's the 24th. Time to move._

Bakura sat up. The sight that greeted him was one he knew well. Ryou's bedroom, spacious, whitewashed, filled with natural light from the large windows. The first thing he noticed was the absence of hunger; in the past, this body had always been awoken with malnutrition's effects clawing at its insides.

_B-Bakura?_ the trepid question fleeted from the back of his mind, surprised at finding itself unable to move. _You're...alive?_

"Don't sound so surprised." He mumbled, fumbling for the light switch.  
><em><br>Well, you haven't taken over in a while...I hop-I mean, thought you might be gone.._. Ryou trailed off, dismayed.

Bakura snorted at the unspoken word - _hope._ "No such luck, I'm afraid." He stretched the body luxuriously, like a cat, and stepped out of the bed.

_Where are you going?_

"An excellent question, Ryou." He mused aloud, pulling a pair of jeans on, though he could have just as easily conversed through their link. "I'm glad you asked. You see, today is the 24th."

_...And?_

"Hm? Ah, right. You can't read my mind like I can yours. Heh." He sensed irritation through the link, and changed the topic. -always best to keep a compliant host.- "Today is a very special day, Ryou. One could say I've made an appointment, or, call it a date, if you wish. With a certain Malik Ishtar."

_...I...don't..._ Uncertainty radiated from the corner of their mind.

"You haven't been introduced." He explained good-naturedly, waving a hand dismissively, beaming at their reflection in the mirror. He ran a hand through the white hair, messing it up.

_...You seem...happy._

"Oh, but I _am_, hikari-mine." He paused to briefly flip through their deck, reshuffling, before pocketing it. "You should be, too."

_...Why?_ Ryou asked warily.

"I'm glad you asked, hikari-mine." Bakura opened the door and stepped into the sunlight, slamming it behind him. "You see, I'm getting a new body today. New host mail order service, contents: not-so-fragile, ship with _haste_." He accented the word with delicacy.

_...You...what? How?_

"Oh, you'll see, Ryou." Bakura chuckled. "You'll see. I think, for now, I'll have to delay this conversation. Wouldn't want your neighbors to think you're CRAZY, would you?" His voice rose to a yell during the last few words, and he threw back their head to laugh jubilantly.

_Bakura, wait!_ His host sounded panicked. _You're not just going to-to walk up to someone and force the ring on them, are you?_

Bakura snorted. "Believe me, Ryou." He dropped to a mutter. "If it were that easy, I'd have been gone years ago."

Relief flooded through their link. _O-Okay. But...then how...?  
><em>  
>Bakura frowned slightly, deciding to switch to thoughts. <em>You see, Ryou<em>, He addressed the teen. _Ishtar has said we can create a new body, but here's where it gets...well, I need you to be in agreement during it. Stay still and all that._

He sensed surprise. _I'll be...in control?_

_That's the idea._ Bakura told him carefully.

He'd spent years cultivating his host, learning to negotiate, make small trivialities seem like victories to the boy. In the beginning, Ryou had fought him, but for the most part (after several painful incidents), the teen had accepted his fate: to be the eternal landlord for the game of three thousand years. They were not partners, but for the most part, Ryou tried to adapt. Bakura permitted this. He did not want a spineless host, after all.

_...I'll be free to go?_ Ryou asked quietly, jarring him from his thoughts.

Bakura considered_. Free from me, if that's what you want._ He paused._ Well? Will you do whatever Malik tells you to?_

Ryou took his time to reply, and Bakura shrugged, continuing to walk. He didn't bother to investigate the pulse of thoughts from the teen's half of the mind, and so he was startled, several minutes later, at the determined response to his question.

_No, Bakura._

_What?_ He stopped walking in disbelief, sure he'd heard him wrong.

_I said no._

_The fuck?_ Bakura screamed mentally. _Don't you see, this is what you want? Me __**out of your head?**_

_But where will you be then?_ Ryou cried out in distraught.

Bakura's eyes widened_. E-Excuse me?_

_You'll...have even more reign_. Ryou explained in distress. _You'll kill, and hurt people!_

"But I already do that!" Bakura yelled in frustration, tearing at their hair. "Don't you get it, you selfish prick? This is better for both of-" He froze, realizing everyone around him had turned to stare. Slowly, he raised his hand to his ear, and nodded as if he were listening to a Bluetooth. Most of the suspicious gazes dispersed.

_...No._ Ryou's voice was firm. _I won't stand by this time._

"Too late, Bakura Ryou." He hissed, ignoring the curious glances. "You don't have much of a choice."

_W-What?_ Ryou faltered. _You...said it had to be my choice!_

_Malik holds the Millennium Rod,_ he informed his host. _In case you were unconcious during that time-_

_And whose fault was that?_

_-it gives him the power to control minds. And I don't think that's all he'll use._ He smirked.

_What-What do you-?_

_He lusts for this body, Bakura Ryou._ Bakura hissed maliciously through their link. _I've seen it in his eyes. He wants you in his bed, begging for him, pleasuring him-_

_Stop it-_

_And if you don't go through with this, I'll let him do what he wants to you._ Bakura threatened_. I'll tell him he can do whatever it takes to change your mind._

_Bakura-_

"Here we are." They stood in front of a faded door, chipping paint marked 321. Bakura knocked - one, two, three - and control was promptly surrendered to Ryou. The teen, startled at being shoved back into his body, stumbled. He turned to run-

The door opened, and Ryou's mouth fell open in soft surprise at a beaming face. The man was blond and deeply tanned, with large, inviting eyes.

"Ah, Bakura Ryou, I presume?" He began in almost perfect Japanese. Ryou swallowed.

"I-uh-well-" He flushed at his stutter, but he couldn't quite compromise the spirit's filthy words with the friendly face before him. "You're...Malik Ishtar." He settled.

The man - no, teen, _he's not much older than I am, ha-ha_ - nodded, the damned smile never fading; growing, if anything. "That I am." He nodded again. "Come on in."

"...There's been a mistake. I shouldn't be here." Ryou began uncertaintly. Malik's violet eyes regarded him knowingly.

"Shouldn't, or don't want to, Bakura Ryou?" He laughed lightheartedly. "Come inside, I insist. I believe we've never been properly introduced." His words have something behind them...a hint of force. Malik's hand jerked toward his belt, and Ryou's eyes followed the movement.

_That'll be the Millennium Rod,_ The spirit piped up knowingly.

_How do you-_

"Of course." He felt his mouth say, and his legs moved him inside, past Malik, without his control. The door shut, and control was again returned to him.

_Bakura! You-_

_As much as your flirting amuses me, I want my own body, and I won't let you be controlled by anyone else._ Bakura's voice was eager._ Do what he says, or I'll make this body turn and pleasure him._

_Ryou's eyes widened in horror. You wouldn't!_

_Don't test me._

"Ryou?" Ryou turned, startled. Malik smiled reassuringly, those damn eyes that knew too much sparkling. "Come on." His hand wrapped around Ryou's wrist in a vicelike grip, and he pulled the teen deeper into the house.

"You...you knew I was coming." Ryou stated quietly.

Malik half turned back to beam at him. "Of course. Did _you _know you were coming?" his voice was intense, urging.

"I..." he began, but then he froze, and his mouth moved of its own accord again.

"Cut the crap, Ishtar." His own voice was deeper. Ryou imagined he must look a sight - his mouth twisted into a smirk, his eyes pleading for rescue - but Malik appears unruffled. "He knows why he's here."

Malik nodded, his eyes searching Ryou's face. "Does your host agree to the terms?"

"That depends." Bakura yanked his arm free. His hands folded over his chest, and he leaned against the wall confidently. "Repeat them for my host, would you?"

Malik's eyebrows shot up. "Ah-he can hear you..in there?"

"Clear as day." Bakura laughed, a harsh noise.

"Very well." Malik hesitated, and continued in a smooth, businesslike voice. "I want updates on whatever it is you're doing with your new body, for starters."

Bakura considered, and nodded. "Done. Is that all?" His eye twitched. "You'd think you'd just -owe- me, considering I defeated your dark side, and didn't get any millennium item for my trouble."

_Bakura?_ Ryou's voice piped up, sounding small.

_What?_

_He...Malik...had a spirit in his item?_

_Not quite._

_Then...what...?_

Bakura shoved a collection of memories from that duel into Ryou's consciousness impatiently.

"The Pharoah asked me to keep it." Malik shrugged. "It'd look suspicious."

"You haven't really changed, have you?" Bakura sneered, a hint of disgust tinging his voice. "You may be able to fool my host, but I know what you're really like."

"That may be true, but it's easier to stay in this country if everyone considers you harmless." Malik shook his head. "Besides, I'm interested in what you might have to offer me."

Bakura growled. "How much?" It wasn't not too much of a problem to steal, he supposed, but he'd rather not have to.

Malik paused thoughtfully, eyeing him speculatively, like Bakura hadn't understood. "...Let's say, 50,000. In US currency."

"_What?"_ Bakura spat in disbelief.

Malik shrugged again.

"I'm not paying that." Bakura hissed. "You're insane."

"Then no ritual." Malik intoned, then he smirked dangerously. "Although, I may be willing to negotiate."

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"Is Bakura Ryou still listening?"

Bakura checked. His host was still reviewing the memories forced upon him. "No."

Malik looked at Bakura intensely, his face unreadable, his eyes trying to send him a message. "He's cute."

Bakura caught on easily. "And so, so innocent, right?" The spirit leered. "He must seem like an easy target."

"I must admit, the thought crossed my mind."

Bakura narrowed his eyes. "You want him?"

Marik smiled. "I won't lie. I don't really care for money - I'm hoping you'll give me let's say, something..._else_."

Bakura eyed him. "If you give me my own body, you can have my host."

Malik studied the spirit. "Is that so?" he murmured.

"Of course." Bakura purred calming his face to resemble his host, as he has so many times before to fool Ryou's friends. "His body, mind, whatever you want. Though I must warn you, I've raised him from childhood to have a spine."

Malik gnawed his lip in contemplation, ignoring the last part. "...Don't you think that's a poor way to repay him after years of hosting you?"

Bakura shook his hair from his face, a slight flicker of regret going through him. "I'll admit, I'm a little attached. How could I not be, after so many years?" He opened his hands dramatically, Malik nodding. "But I care about getting a body, even if that means he gets the short end of the stick. Besides, he used to get teased a lot, you know?" He told Malik suddenly, the reason he's found making him feel better. "If I'm not in his body to protect him, well, it'll be good for him to have someone around."

Malik pursed his lip. "I see," he said carefully. "...You realize I will use the Rod on him, then?"

Bakura shrugged. "You're a controlling person, Marik." He pointed out. "I can guess what you'll do. Keep him around, make him clean, sleep with him, but I don't care. Just get me a body."

After a moment, Malik smirked. "Very well. I agree to your terms, ring spirit."

"Then we have a deal." Bakura looked at him darkly. "I expect him to have a bit of himself left." he warned.

Malik considered. "Fine."

Bakura tugged on the collar of their shirt. "By the way, he doesn't want to go through with this ritual."

Malik raised his eyebrow. "Is that so?" he murmured softly.

"Go ahead." Bakura permitted. "I don't care. Get your first taste. Let him think you're great." With that, he shoved Ryou back in control.

"M-Malik?"

The egyptian smiled gently. "Come on, Ryou. Let's go upstairs." His arm wrapped around Ryou's shoulders comfortingly. He felt too tired to protest, exhausted from the barrage of memory.

_He...created his own darkness…_ Ryou realized, unsettled. _It took over him...so this one must be good, right?_

_I'm afraid it's not that simple_. Bakura pitched in.

"Here." Ryou blinked at Malik's voice, then again at the room. Three circles are drawn on the floor in chalk - two large (body-shaped, he realized with a sinking feeling) and one small.

"M-Malik, I don't think you realize...uh..." Ryou cleared his throat awkwardly. "I have to go now." He tried to step backwards, before realizing with horror that his legs do not respond.

_Ah, that'll be the Millennium Rod._

_B-Bakura?_ _You're not doing this?_

_Sorry, Ryou. It's been real._

_Bakura!_

_You were a great host. He'll be gentle, okay? I'll check back on you. I promise._ The spirit began to ramble. _If he's abusing you in any way, I'll step in. Remember that. Okay? I'll be in my soul room. See you soon._

_Bakura? What are you talking about? Help me! Bakura!_

His blood ran cold as hot lips pressed to his neck.

"Now, pet," Malik breathed, his tongue flicking out to taste the teen's throat. "Where were we? Ah, yes..."

Malik walked around to face Ryou, holding an object he recognized, with a sense of dread, to be a millennium item. Two slender fingers slipped under his chin and pried his head up gently. He met the half-lidded violet gaze with a shudder, praying to whatever god was listening, egyptian or otherwise, the betrayal he's feeling showed on his face.

"You were stripping for me."

Ryou opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut as he realized in horror his hands have moved to pull off his shirt, caressing his abdomen teasingly.

"P-Please, Malik." He begged, his throat swelling painfully. _He...he was so nice, a moment ago...how-?_ "I don't understand."

"You don't need to, Ryou." The egyptian flashed him another dazzling smile. Ryou realized the emotion he'd been seeing veiled in the other's eyes wasn't friendliness - it was barely disguised lust. This man standing in front of him, he was a sexual creature, the kind who got off on controlling another, and the spirit wasn't stepping in to help this time. What was it he had said? /He wants you in his bed, begging for him, pleasuring him.../ Ryou shivered.

"Just like that, pet." Malik crooned as the shirt dropped to the floor. "You're doing so well for me. I'll have to reward you, won't I?"

Hot fury surged through him. "Fuck you, Malik Ishtar." He hissed as his hands moved to his zipper.

"Trust me, pet." Malik murmured sensually. His eyes dropped to Ryou's pants, and Ryou couldn't help but notice - and stare at - the large bulge in the egyptian's groin.

"I intend to."


	2. Chapter 2: Mine

_**Druxy is a word that describes something that appears perfect, but is rotten on the inside.**_

**Welcome to the second chapter of Druxy, my first lemony fic and what I may come to consider my magnum opus. Pornographic chapter is pornographic, heh. Enjoy ;3**

_"P-Please, Malik." He begged, his throat swelling painfully. __**He...he was so nice, a moment ago...how-?**__ "I don't understand."_

_"You don't need to, Ryou." The egyptian flashed him another dazzling smile. Ryou realized the emotion he'd been seeing veiled in the other's eyes wasn't friendliness - it was barely disguised lust. This man standing in front of him, he was a sexual creature, the kind who got off on controlling another, and the spirit wasn't stepping in to help this time. What was it he had said? /He wants you in his bed, begging for him, pleasuring him.../ Ryou shivered._

_"Just like that, pet." Malik crooned as the shirt dropped to the floor. "You're doing so well for me. I'll have to reward you, won't I?"_

_Hot fury surged through him. "Fuck you, Malik Ishtar." He hissed as his hands moved to his zipper._

_"Trust me, pet." Malik murmured sensually. His eyes dropped to Ryou's pants, and Ryou couldn't help but notice - and stare at - the large bulge in the egyptian's groin._

_"I intend to."_

He shivered under the other's lustful gaze, aware of his nudity. Ryou struggled against the invisible binds holding him in place. _M-My eyes are up here!_ Ryou sputtered inside his mind.

"...Hm. You're not hard." Malik observed in a measured voice.

"Wh-Why would I be?" Ryou hissed, flushing with anger. "Let me go, _now_."

Malik ignored him, eyes still trained on Ryou. "Need some help with that, pet?"

"Don't you dare come near me." Ryou warned immediately through clenched teeth. "Don't even think about it."

Malik raised his gaze to meet Ryou's, expression amused. "Fine. I won't."

"You won't?" Ryou hesitated, startled. _Then...why?..._

"Touch yourself." Malik whispered throatily, his own hands slipping beneath the waistband of his jeans. "Touch yourself for _me_, Ryou."

"You...no!" Ryou felt his hands slide down his skin and ghost over his cock. His throat closed. "B-Bastard." Malik watched him intently, timing his strokes to Ryou's. His member twitched to life.

"Very good, Ryou." Malik pulled his hand from his pants to order Ryou excitedly. "Lie down. There, on your back. Good boy." he breathed. Ryou gritted his teeth as his body complied, arranging itself neatly. "Such a good, good boy. I'm going to have to reward you, aren't I?"

"Go f-fuck yourself, Malik." Ryou snarled as Malik straddled his hips, slinging off his own shirt and pants. He removed the ring from Ryou's neck, carelessly tossing it onto a shelf a few feet away. Malik pulled Ryou's wrists back and tied them with a knotted rope. It wasn't necessary, Ryou was held down by the rod's magic, but it was extra comfort, even a bit of a kink. "Go f-fuck yourself!"

"But, Ryou..." Malik teased, pinching one of his nipples, "I'd so much rather fuck _you_ instead."

Then Malik's hot hand grasped his erection, and everything stopped as Ryou's entire world concentrated on one spot.

"You like that, huh, babe?" Malik laughed, leaning down to kiss Ryou sloppily. Ryou snapped his head away, biting his lip to keep from moaning.

"Malik - Why are you - you should...nngh...please-!" Ryou gasped.

"Hm? What's that?" Malik placed the tip of his finger on Ryou's head and toyed with his slit maddeningly, rubbing back and forth sinfully.

"You should - You should /know what it's like!/" Ryou almost sobbed, rocking his hips shamefully at the stimulation. He knew it was the rod's magic, but that didn't make it any less degrading. "To have someone in your mind, burying you!"

Malik's hand paused, and Ryou held his breath, daring to hope he'd struck a chord. Then his touch danced back, firm strokes pumping him.

"I do, Ryou. I do." Malik crooned, squeezing hard, eliciting a shout from Ryou. "That's why I'm going to save you from him."

Ryou felt himself nearing climax and bit his tongue, when Malik's hands moved away. Left unfulfilled and panting, Ryou glared up at Malik.

"Like I'd let the fun end that quickly." Malik snorted, noticing Ryou's look. "Really, now." He scratched the inside of Ryou's thighs, soothing the twitching skin, until Ryou's body had calmed enough to continue.

His hands moved back to Ryou's member, and it was in that moment the teen realized Malik was not going to let him come.

Malik's fingers were torturously slow, supplying him with heady strokes, but everytime Ryou came close to finishing, Malik would move his hands farther away and until he had come back down from his high. He rubbed Ryou's stomach, and they danced along an edge for almost an hour, Ryou constantly hovering between pleasure and release. Ryou felt himself moaning, lost in a haze of almost painful desire, his skin twitching and burning with touch, Malik's gaze on him intense. There was no torture, nothing, as horrible as this, to be denied a spill - climax was always one good stroke away but Malik just - _wouldn't_ -

When Malik stopped, and stood, Ryou breathed shakily, his skin burning with the memory of trailing fingers. He felt his eyes glaze over, trapped in the most aroused state he'd ever felt in his life.

"I love you like this, you know." Malik praised silkily, looking down at Ryou impassively. "Trapped below me, all hot and bothered, helpless...Imagine if the rod weren't holding you still, hm?"

"I - I'd run." Ryou pressed breathlessly, panting.

"Oh, no." Malik chuckled smoothly and slid down his boxers. "Squirming, yes? You're so turned on, Ryou. Just look at yourself. I've turned you into a whimpering, moaning, panting, hot little _mess_."

Ryou closed his eyes in humiliation at being spoken to in such a filthy tone. "N-No." He protested weakly, feeling himself flush even more.

"It's all right, Ryou. There's nothing to be ashamed of." Malik laughed cruelly and sat back down, pushing Ryou's thighs apart and sliding between them.

"No...please..." Ryou begged. "Not...that..."

He felt two fingers touch his mouth gently, rubbing the skin, before pushing past his lips.

"Suck, Ryou." Malik murmured. "It will only hurt more if you don't."

Ryou nearly sobbed as his mouth opened against his will, closing around the digits and lapping at them with his tongue.

"Mmagh." He tried, accusing Malik with one half lidded glare. Malik's eyes glinted in amusement.

"Of course I used the Rod, pet." Malik chuckled, pulling his fingers free. "Makes it easier than you biting me for petty revenge, hm?"

Ryou opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut as he felt two slick fingers worm into a place he'd never thought he'd feel them.

"A-Ah!" Ryou squinted his eyes shut, mouth parting. He opened them a crack, grimacing. "Stop!"

Malik smiled down at him benevolently, interest sparking in his eyes. "...Why, are you a _virgin_, Ryou?"

"G-Go to hell." Ryou moaned, feeling his walls stretch, hugging Malik's fingers.

"You can tell me, Ryou." Malik teased playfully, scissoring abruptly. He grinned at Ryou's exclamations of discomfort.

"I...stop, please! I-" Malik's fingers pulled out without warning, and he spat in his hand to lubricate his erection. "M-Malik?"

"Relax, babe." He felt Malik's tongue flick out to play with his earlobe. His muscles relaxed instantly, involuntarily, the rod's influence, and something much larger pressed against his entrance. He sobbed once, in realization, a single, disjointed noise.

"Malik, please, don't-" Ryou babbled desperately. "Please, oh, god, I don't _deserve_ this-"

"Hush." Malik's teeth caught his ear, working the flesh sinfully, his hot breath playing over Ryou's neck. "Be silent for a moment."

There was a sensation of working, of struggle, and suddenly he was _filled filled filled oh god oh god-_

"Malik!" Ryou found himself screaming. "Mal-"

"Ahh-hh...oh..._Ryou."_

Ryou closed his eyes and wept.

Ryou was hot and tight and quivering beneath him. Malik breathed out a deep, shaky sigh, pressing and rubbing his cheek against Ryou's. He shifted his hips experimentally, eliciting a shiver from the teen.

"Mine." Malik whispered, pressing his forehead to Ryou's. The white haired male whimpered, the first of tears dripping down his temple. He jerked his head in a silent _no_, afraid to move too suddenly, in fear of pain. Ryou scrunched his eyes shut, forcing out more tears.

"No...No...N-No..." he protested weakly.

"Yes..._ah_..." Ryou's muscles unintentionally tightened around him. He bucked his hips forward before he could stop himself, eliciting another cry from Ryou. "L-Look at me. I want you looking at me."

"No...Please..." Malik could feel Ryou trembling beneath him. It increased his arousal more. Malik licked his lips hungrily.

"I'm going to kiss you, Ryou." He purred seductively, pressing a kiss to Ryou's temple and tasting sweat. Ryou shivered pathetically beneath him. "And you're going to keep your eyes open. You're going to watch me kiss you, and you'll kiss me back."

"D-Die." Ryou croaked hoarsely. "I hate you."

"You'll do what I say, Ryou." Malik's tone darkened. "You were the deal. I'll get what I bargained for."

"That's...not fair..." Ryou choked. "I didn't agree to anything!"

Malik moved his hips forward slowly. Ryou was pleasing and clenching around him, and he didn't want to argue much longer.

"I know you didn't, love, I know." Ryou's eyes widened in indignation at the term of endearment and his mouth opened to object, but Malik cut him off. "But I'll get what I want, anyway. Now..." he traced Ryou's collarbone with a light finger. He breathed his words slowly, so his hot breath would heat Ryou's skin. "I want to make love to you."

"No, no, no-" Ryou shook his head violently, trying in vain to rock away away.

"Please, by - hng- all means, keep moving." Malik gasped as Ryou unknowingly created friction at the spot of heat where they were connected. "The movement is just - mm - making this better."

Ryou shuddered and stopped, looking sickened. He turned his head to the side, eyes closed, shaking visibly.

"Mm, hard to get, I see." He licked Ryou's tears from his cheek, tasting the salt. "Well, I can always use the millennium rod to make you comply, unless you want to willingly give yourself to me..." he began to move slowly, the arousal too great to continue to stay still.

"N-No." Malik watched, fascinated, as Ryou's throat flexed while he swallowed. "I won't. I won't d-degrade myself like th-AH!"

Malik suddenly felt anger mixed with impatience surge through him. He pulled back and slammed into Ryou forcefully, effectively cutting off his words. "You know, Ryou." He hissed, pulling out and thrusting savagely again. A cry of pain tore from Ryou's throat. "I'd like to get things going here. Now, you can cooperate, and I'll be gentle, and you can come, too..." Malik's hand slid down Ryou's thigh to grip his skin tightly, pinching the flesh hard enough to bruise. Ryou let out another strangled sob. "...or I'll make this _rape_, Ryou. Don't test me."

"This-This isn't rape, now?" Ryou cried. "What do you think this is?"

"We're face-to-face, aren't we? Just like lovers." Malik explained, playfully kissing Ryou's jawline. Ryou sobbed.

"That-That doesn't make-"

"What do you want, Ryou, hm?" Malik nipped delicately at Ryou's shoulder. "Do you really want me to bend you over a chair like a common whore? You want me to fuck you until you bleed?"

"M-Malik-"

"I lied earlier. I don't want to _fuck_ you, Ryou." Malik whispered throatily. "I want to make love to you. I want to see you moan and writhe and beg for me, I want my name to spill from your lips, I want to see the look in your eyes when you accept your fate...and I will have those things whether or not you like them, I promise you."

"Y-You're _disgusting_." Ryou's voice shook with outrage and revulsion. "I hate you."

"Respond to me, Ryou." Malik murmured, urging the words into Ryou's creamy skin. He worked his mouth up to Ryou's lips through small kisses and bites. "Kiss me, Ryou, and you know what will happen if you don't..." Malik left the threat hanging and pressed his lips to Ryou's soft ones, waiting for a reaction.

Perhaps it was the tangible threat of being degraded even further that did it. Maybe it was the velvety words taking their effect on an exhausted psyche. It might have even been the hint of his item's influence Malik reached for with his mind - any of these factors or all combined, Malik smiled against their lips as Ryou hesitantly kissed him back, opening his mouth. Their lips met with the sliding heat of Malik's tongue deep inside Ryou's mouth, small whimpers that keened involuntarily from the whitette's throat, soft noises of lips pulling apart and rejoining, Malik's hands guiding Ryou's legs around his waist. Malik breathed in heavily, taking the sweet, heady scent of the teen deep into his lungs. He slid his hand down shakily to knead the skin above the white haired teen's hipbone and was rewarded with a lovely muscle spasm. Malik chuckled into the kiss, rubbing Ryou's side softly and enjoying how his skin would twitch away. He finally broke their contact for air, looking deep into Ryou's eyes. Ryou's head fell back, panting softly. Malik licked his lips appreciatively at the look of defeat in Ryou's glazed eyes, the way he looked up at Malik helplessly. Ryou was aroused against his will, to the point of near-incoherency, ashamed of it - reading him was an open book.

"Someone enjoyed themselves." Malik purred seductively, scratching lightly at the sensitive skin of Ryou's stomach. Ryou shivered, opening his mouth blearily.

Malik cut him off with another soft kiss. "Don't protest. Please, Ryou?" he coaxed, asking permission for the first time. The teen hiccuped slightly and turned his head in shame. Malik grasped his chin gently and pulled his face back towards him, pulling out an inch or two and easing back in gently.

"I'm going to make love to you, Ryou." He whispered tenderly, soothing his tear tracks with small kisses. "I want you to love me back." Malik nuzzled even closer to the teen, rubbing the tips of their noses together sweetly. He began to rock his hips slowly, bringing their lips together again.

Ryou kissed him through his tears, and on the third thrust, Malik felt himself hit a small knot. Ryou's lips parted against his, and breath hissed from his mouth. Malik hit the same spot, harder. This time Ryou arched his back, a soft moan and a shiver rewarding him.

"G-Good boy, Ryou." Malik rasped. "Y-You've been good, and I'm r-rewarding you, love."

Ryou showed no sign of hearing him, his eyes rolling back in their sockets as Malik increased his speed, encouraged by the small, needy noises of pleasure gargling from the male's throat.

"Say my name, Ryou." Malik gasped. He pressed his lips to the hollow of Ryou's throat, feeling the skin swell against his mouth with the rapid rise and fall of Ryou's breath. "Say it."

"M-Ma...li..." Ryou sobbed. Malik found Ryou's hot erection with his free hand and squeezed tightly.

"Louder, Ryou!" Malik growled, ravaging the skin of his neck with desperate bites. He felt his nails dig into Ryou's stomach, his other hand speeding to pump Ryou faster. "Louder!"

"M-Malik, Malik, oh, god, M-Ah! MALIK!" Ryou screamed, bucking his hips as he climaxed into Malik's hand, sobs wrenching from his chest. His walls clenched around Malik's buried length tightly, and Malik choked out a groan as he released into Ryou's passage, orgasm building in his gut and jerking him out in a haze of pleasure. Stars spun around him sickeningly as he sank back to earth.

He slumped on top of Ryou, lulled with a poist-coital bliss, and crushed their lips together sloppily. Malik sighed happily, clumsily running a hand through Ryou's hair with a sleepy smile.

"M-Mal..ik..." Ryou's body trembled violently beneath him.

"I'm so proud of you, love." Malik whispered sweetly into Ryou's ear, teasing the earlobe with teeth. "So...mm...proud." He shivered pleasantly, his arms wrapping around Ryou's waist. He lavished him with kisses and nips everywhere possible he could; his shoulders, his neck, his chest.

"H-Hate you." Ryou shivered, coughing. "So m-much."

"Mmm." Malik purred, cradling Ryou and continuing to mark his skin. "You won't, soon."

"I'm so dirty." Ryou whispered hollowly. His eyes dulled. "So dirty..."

Ryou continued to mumble disjointedly. Malik pulled himself out of Ryou and sat up, rubbing the teen's stomach soothingly.

"Relax, Ryou." Malik hushed him. "I'm going to make it better, okay?"

"...filthy..."

Malik reached beside him to pick up the millennium rod, admiring the gold, the weight in his hand he'd grown accustomed to.

"I'm going to make you love me."

"Wha...?" Ryou's eyes drifted to the item in Malik's hand, and his ramblings trailed off as his eyes widened in horror.

"No, Malik, please, don't-"

"Relax, love." Malik chuckled, kissing Ryou's forehead. "I've done this many times before. It doesn't hurt, and you'll feel so, so much better."

"-oh, god, save me, please, someone, I don't want him, I did what he said, the deal should be done, I don't want to be some slave, please-"

"Ryou, please, calm down." Malik trailed a finger down the golden item appreciatively, before turning the eye to face Ryou. "Everything's going to be okay."

"-_please_-" Ryou was sobbing, hard, now, trying to find something, anything, to merit Malik's mercy. "I don't want to, please, god, no, help me, STOP-"

"Really, love, you're being over-dramatic." Malik chided. Ryou's eyes were wider than he'd ever seen them, dazed with panic, and he struggled against his bonds, both invisible and roped, with frenzied motions. "I'm a professional, remember?" The eye glowed.

"-Please, no, I don't, I hate you - you are - this is - THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, BAKURA!" Ryou pulled against the restraints in vain, screaming at the ceiling. "WAS I REALLY THAT BAD? I TRIED! I TRIED TO GET ALONG WITH YOU! I HOPE YOUR BODY WAS WORTH IT, YOU BASTARD! I HATE YOU! BASTARD! You - You bas..tard..." Ryou choked involuntarily, an invisible hand around his neck, his words drying up and his throat closing. He shook, unable to speak, glaring up at Malik a look of hatred and betrayal.

"You shouldn't use such language, love." Malik admonished quietly, looking down at Ryou impassively. "Now, then. Let's begin, shall we?"

Ryou twisted violently in vain, snapping his head back and forth until Malik reached with his thoughts and the magic, found Ryou's mind. It pulsed with hatred, self-disgust, and fear. Malik encompassed the entirety of it easily, concentrated and _twisted_. Memories began flashing before his eyes - a little girl with a yellow dress, the screeching of metal and a funeral, a shining Millennium Ring pressed into his hand, a tentative first kiss, running from upperclassmen with raised fists - distantly, he registered Ryou screaming as he unlocked the teen's very personality.

It was a matter of mere moments. Malik brushed the memories aside easily with a flick and looked down at Ryou, control established. The whitette's eyes were wide and unfocused as he lay unresponsive. Malik pulled a piece of hair from Ryou's face gently, twisting the silken strand around his finger.

"Ryou, are you listening?"

"...aah..." His eyelids fluttered.

"Answer me, pet."

"...Yes."

Malik smiled, ruffling Ryou's hair affectionately. He cupped his cheek in his hand, stroking the smooth skin with his thumb appreciatively.

"Showtime, pet." Malik climbed off Ryou and undid the restraint, willing him to stand and dress. The teen clambered to his feet, wavering but docile, and the two dressed quickly before crossing the room. Ryou lay in one of the larger drawn circles complacently, and Malik crouched beside him, taking the ring from the shelf and placing it in the smallest circle.

"Hold still, okay, love?" Malik chuckled at his little joke, and stepped backward, beginning his chant.

The temperature in the room began to rise.

"-fashion now a body for your most ancient child, whose form lies deep beneath your sands, from the flesh of the willing host-"

Ryou moaned in discomfort, sweat beading on his forehead and plastering his hair to his skin. The air in the room felt charged, crackling across skin with a static touch. A haze not unlike a heat mirage settled around the perimeter.

"-seperate the souls of the two who have been made one, and render them each whole again, so that the spirit may complete his task-"

Ryou's chest rose and fell rapidly and he began to convulse, issuing choking noises. "_Please_..." he keened, scratching at his arm until spots of blood appeared. Malik tensed in alarm, but he couldn't stop now.

"-Use the flesh of the one here who offers himself willingly. Ryou, do you condone the passage of the spirit from your body into a living, breathing vessel of his own?"

Ryou looked ready to have a seizure, writhing in pain. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused, and his jaw fell slack. "...I..."

Malik narrowed his eyes. "Ryou?" He pressed the words into Ryou's mind, nearly branding them.

Ryou moaned wordlessly, pulling at his shirt. "I...ah!" His hips bucked as Malik clawed into his mind, _hard_, and he slumped, defeated, with a shudder.

"Yes." he agreed, his voice flat. "I give the price: a portion of my soul and my blood to fashion a new container for the spirit."

Malik picked up a knife from the shelf and slid it inside the circle, guiding Ryou's actions. The feverish teen took the knife and sliced open his palm, whimpering, holding it over the third circle and letting the blood pool before shuddering and laying back down.

_Good, Ryou_. Malik sent him carefully; he dared not speak aloud. _Very good._

Ryou coughed weakly and curled in on himself, shaking miserably.

"Gods and Goddesses, please," Malik wet his lips for the finish. "Accept our offering." Malik stepped back expectantly, looking around and the still room.

_...Huh, he frowned, after a minute or two. Did I not-?_

Then the world was ablaze with light, and he saw no more.

Bakura paced inside his soul room, cut off from the outside world and unable to see through Ryou's eyes as he usually did.

"Fuck." He dropped on to the bed, his face in his hands. _What if he just takes off the ring gives it to the Pharoah?_

There had been no mention that Malik would remove the ring, no real talk of anything about this ritual, really. He should have seen this set up, seen right through this - he told himself to calm down. Malik may have been cunning (and a bit of a bitch, in Bakura's opinion) but he wouldn't have done this. Wouldn't it look suspicious to just hand the ring over? Wouldn't he have to explain he was helping Bakura? Ryou wouldn't keep silent about their little bargain.

Then that deal...he rubbed at his eyes exhaustedly. Bakura realized now Malik had no use for money. He had wanted his host. Guilt flickered through him. _What did I set him up with?_

He realized it really wasn't fair. Ryou had tried to get along, adapt and make life with a spirit easier for himself, had even understood Bakura's frustration at being trapped within another, and for the most part, Bakura had found himself responding. Ryou was civil, had treated him with quiet respect; Bakura'd had no reason to reciprocate with anything but. They'd talked, maybe even laughed at times, and Bakura had found himself treating his host with even fondness, the only form of abuse or suppression a near constant use of his body. Even then he had still given Ryou the option to look out through their eyes, had made sure to give him at least a week or two of freedom to compensate for every month. No, Ryou did not deserve this. Bakura knew that. But was there any other way to get a body? Besides, Ryou would be free of him. As long as he was happy, he had been repaid for hosting him, right?

Bakura shook his head, trying to calm the speed of thoughts and the overwhelming feeling of _what if the ring is on the way to the Pharoah_? Ryou had felt betrayed, he could sense it, until the ring was taken off by Malik. Surely he wouldn't keep silent about the deal if confronted by the Pharoah.

Then again...maybe Ryou had caught Malik's sympathy, spun his tale of tragic suppression, and Malik had eaten it up; his own dark side a fresh memory, whisked Ryou away to save him like a knight in shining armor.

No...that was stupid. Bakura growled, slamming his fist into the wall. He was overthinking this. It was impossible to gauge time in the ring, he knew this better than anyone, and he was just anxious. Bakura reclined on the makeshift bed, calming himself. He'd just wait, and see, and fuck all the nagging thoughts of Malik and Ryou running off to the Pharoah with his ring.

_Maybe I should sleep, _he mused. _Get some rest. I wonder what my body will look like._ Bakura couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the thought of his own body. _Hm. I may actually have to start eating healthily. Ha, imagine-  
><em>  
>That was when one of the most powerful forces he'd ever encountered wrapped itself around his being and pulled, <em>stretching<em>, at his very soul.

**Wow. This turned out a lot better than expected. I'd like to thank my irl friend millenniumspoon who helped me edit this chapter. Check out her stories, she's an amazing writer! She's only uploaded 3 fics but she's showed me tons she has written that she hopefully finishes editing and uploads soon, they're great. I owe her so much. If you notice any difference in the writing style, it's her help. (She also loves angstshipping as much as I do; and that's saying something xD) Thanks, Ali!**

**Just a note: I love it when ya'll add this to your alerts and favorites, but remember, it won't kill you to spend a minute or two sending a review, they're greatly appreciated. ;) And now…**

_**It's time to RE-RE-RE-RE-REVIEW!**_


	3. Chapter 3: Initiative

**Short chapter...heh.**

**I'd like to make a note that while this story seems like PWP now, it does, indeed, have a plot. I've decided on the course of the story. For your understanding, know that in this alternate storyline, Yuugi and his friends are currently competing in the KC grand championship, or somewhere near the end of the Doma arc, whichever you prefer. This story will go all along till the end of the series. So don't worry about the ending, I have it planned. I'll try to keep regularly writing and updating - I hate when fics take forever to be completed, especially because there's no idea for the storyline. I have the end in sight, I just have to convince myself to write.**

**Also, I've been having some problems with page breaks. I'm sorry if it's confusing - my breaks were deleted. I'm going to try a single x on the line, see if that works. If it doesn't...well, it should be obvious when it switches POV, and my sincerest apologies for any confusion last chapter with the change in POV.**

**This chapter ended up being more filler than anything, but what can a writer do? Structure before smut! That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

_It's warm,_ he realized. _The floor is warm and I can feel it and if I can feel it then I must be in a body but the ring was taken off so that means-_

Barely daring to hope, Bakura's eyes shot open, and he sat abruptly. He lifted up hands, staring at them for a moment before grinning.

_Excellent._

The body was identical to Ryou's, but it was his own. There was no tug from the ring, no presence in his mind, only his thoughts and the ability to move as he pleased.

He stood.

Bakura's eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. Three circles were scratched roughly in chalk. His millennium ring lay in the middle, in a pool of blood. After a moment, he picked it up and looped it around his neck with a frown before noticing the two bodies.

Malik lay sprawled on the opposite side of the room, unconscious, but it was his former host that made him pause. Ryou was curled into a ball, eyes focused on nothing, shaking miserably. Bakura bent warily.

"Host?" he whispered curiously. Ryou made no reply. "...Ryou?"

The boy lay still.

Frowning, Bakura straightened and crossed the room to Malik.

"Tomb keeper." He barked. "Wake up."

Malik stirred slightly, opening a single dazed eye to blink up at him blearily. His eyes brightened in recognition, and he sat up, rubbing his temple.

"I passed out." Malik explained unnecessarily. Bakura raised his eyebrow. Malik stood quickly, straightening his shirt with an awkward cough, attempting to change the subject. "The body? It's working?"

Bakura scowled and jerked his head in a nod. "My host. What's wrong with him?"

Malik frowned before walking to Ryou's side, kneeling beside him. He brushed some hair out of his face gently.

"Ryou." Malik called softly. "Stand up."

Ryou's eyes snapped open, and he scrambled to his feet, shaking. Bakura didn't miss the way Malik's arm curled around the teen's waist. He furrowed his eyebrow. _Something feels...off._

"Why won't he answer me?" Bakura demanded harshly.

Malik started, his eyes shifting suspiciously. "Of course he will. Right, Ryou?" he coaxed. Malik twisted his hands around Ryou's wrist and pulled him towards Bakura. Ryou followed, docile, letting himself be led. They stood face to face. Bakura stared into Ryou's eyes.

"...Hello, Spirit." Ryou struggled out.

Bakura glanced at him cautiously. "...Ryou?" He noted a large cut on Ryou's hand. _That must be where the blood came from..._

He chose his words carefully. _After all, he didn't want me to obtain a body._ "...How are you feeling?"

Ryou stared at him blankly for half a minute, swaying as if he were listening to something else. "...I'm feeling fine, thank you, Spirit." He concluded. "Thank you for asking."

Bakura narrowed his eyes. "...You seem...very okay with this."

Again, that damned delay.

"...Of course I'm okay, Spirit." Ryou concluded finally, polite to the very last. "I have Malik, and I am happy, for myself and for you."

Bakura's jaw fell open slightly at that one. Suddenly the pieces clicked together in his mind. Anger surged through him and he turned on Malik, grabbing the teen by the front of his shirt and pulling him close.

"I said to leave some of him there." Bakura hissed furiously. "I said to keep him happy!"

"He is." Malik replied instantly, looking unfazed. He pulled himself out of Bakura's grip with ease. "He's very happy. Right, Ryou?"

His former host shivered, a smile of content flitting across his face. "Yes." Ryou agreed. "I'm happy."

"You're making him say that." Bakura hissed. "Can he even _think_?"

"Of course not." Malik scoffed instantly, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. Bakura bristled. "Happiness doesn't necessarily include free will, you know."

"You son of a bitch." Bakura snarled. He grabbed Ryou's upper arm roughly, dragging him down the hall.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Malik called after him, sounding, for the first time, angered.

"I'm taking him home." Bakura growled over his shoulder. "He's going to get away from you and sleep this off."

Suddenly, Ryou dug in his heels, pulling himself back towards Malik.

"What are you doing, host?" Bakura snapped. "Come /on/."

"You don't understand, do you, Bakura?" Ryou spoke in a flat monotone, his body tensing as Malik spoke through him. "You made a deal. No matter how far away, I can control Ryou."

"Let him go." Bakura tightened his grip on Ryou's arm.

"I will not." Malik finished, walking out of the room leisurely. "I rather enjoy Ryou here. I'll be taking him back, now."

In a quick move, Ryou pulled himself free, tumbling towards Malik, who caught him easily. Malik pulled the shorter teen to his chest, kissing the top of his head. Bakura glared, recognizing defeat.

"I...I want to talk to him." Bakura conceded. "The real Ryou."

Malik considered this, stroking Ryou's hair. "Come back tomorrow."

Bakura opened his mouth to object. Malik cut him off. "I didn't completely bury him. I only imposed a new personality that can be switched on and off."

"...Then let me talk to him." Bakura urged_. I can at least...apologize, or-_

"Tomorrow." Malik shook his head. "I've used too much magic in a small area, over a short period of time, today. Tomorrow."

"...Fine." Bakura felt himself spit, before stalking out without a second glance. _It's not like I care, anyway._

x

y

z

"Oh, Ryou." Malik chuckled after the door had slammed. "Your Spirit is a volatile one."

Ryou shifted in his arms, but said nothing.

"Good point." Malik laughed. "Come. Let's take a shower together, okay?"

"...Okay." Ryou finally replied softly.

He pulled his hands through the white hair with a smile. "I'll even let you wash me off, mm?" Malik laughed, tugging the shorter male towards the bathroom with ease. Ryou stumbled behind him.

x

y

z

Bakura collapsed onto the couch in Ryou's house, defeated. It'd been simple enough to pick the lock, to pick the lock on several of Ryou's neighbor's houses, in fact, but his fun was spoiled once he had realized every lock in this modern era was the same.

_You have your own body, now_, he admonished himself. _What will you do with it?_

It was an excellent question he had posed to himself, one there was no easy answer for.

He was bored. Bakura could admit it - he was bored out of his mind. He'd gone searching for the Pharaoh, determined for a duel, or at least a trip gathering information by acting as Ryou, but there was nothing, no sign anywhere. Though wary of the fact that there was now nothing tying him to the world like Ryou's body had, he had searched for the Pharaoh, and for what? Nothing. The damned man poked his nose in where it was unwelcome, but when he was actually sought after, he vanished. Figured.

He knew he would be pulled into the world of the Pharaoh's memories, eventually. It was a question of _when._

A small part of him had felt relief at being unable to locate the others, as loathe as he was to admit it. Even if he would not have dueled, he wasn't sure if he could have pulled off his landlord's act while the memory of his host's dazed eyes haunted him.

His host.

His _former_ host.

Bakura knew it wasn't fair, what he had gotten the teen into. He deserved a chance at freedom. Bakura didn't deny that. He'd promised Ryou himself for years, whispering in his mind that if he just _cooperated,_ Bakura would eventually leave. Ryou had always jumped for freedom, a chance to reclaim his life, if only for a few weeks before the spirit repossessed him. Yes, his former host deserved to make his own life. Bakura grimaced to think what Malik had done to him.

_"Come back tomorrow."_

He could have months, years, even, before the Pharaoh decided to open the door to their past. Bakura settled back thoughtfully.

_The least I can do is help Ryou's situation._ A plan began to form in Bakura's mind, an idea of what could be done.

_Oh, you'll see me tomorrow, Malik Ishtar._

_You certainly will._

x

y

z

**I know it wasn't worth the wait, ah. I promise the upcoming chapters get better.**

**Reviews are my incentive to get the next chapter going. Please consider taking the time to do so. :)**


	4. Chapter 4: Beginning

**Sorry for the wait! Writer's block hit me hard this chapter. I knew where I wanted to go, but it took me a while.**

**Beta-read, as always, by my fabulous girlfriend, millenniumspoon~**

* * *

><p>Raising his hand to the polished door, Bakura knocked, hard. After a few moments' pause, the door swung open and he was greeted by Malik's large eyes.<p>

"Come in," he invited, and Bakura didn't need to be told twice.

The door latched shut behind him as he followed Malik through the house.

"He's on the sofa." Malik whispered, his eyes softening. Bakura glanced sideways at him in disgust before focusing his attention on the pale form lying still as death.

"What's wrong with him?" Bakura growled, a scowl prominent on his features.

"Hm? Ah, you mean him being asleep?" Malik walked over to Ryou, placing a hand on his forehead and tucking away a strand of hair with gentleness. "Having your mind messed with is fairly exhausting, Bakura."

"He wouldn't be exhausted if someone hadn't been messing with his mind, then."

Malik raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to talk to him, or not?"

"...Yes." Bakura conceded, shifting his weight.

Malik traced Ryou's cheek gently. "Ryou, wake up."

His eyelids fluttered.

"...I..." Ryou groaned, raising a hand to his forehead. His blinked sleepily when, suddenly, he caught sight of Malik. They narrowed in hatred. "My head_...you_."

Ryou's voice twisted in loathing, and Bakura started. It was the first time he'd heard his host speak with such disgust. The teen scrambled away, stumbling off the couch. Malik watched in amusement, crouching beside him.

"Yes, Ryou?" He murmured, blinking innocently. "Something wrong?"

"Get away from me." Ryou whispered hoarsely. "Don't touch me."

Malik laughed and stood. "Oh…There'll be plenty of time for that later. I'll give you two some time alone." He glanced at a clock on the wall before walking into the next room.

"Two...?" Ryou turned, and his eyes fell on Bakura. He looked startled only for a second, before his eyes narrowed again. "_You!"_

"Hello, host." Bakura greeted. He'd planned this. "I have come here today to tell you-_agh!"_

Ryou lunged to his feet and at Bakura, hands clawing for this throat. Only the swiftest of reflexes carried Bakura to the side. He caught Ryou's arms as he tumbled by and pulled him closer to his body to control his movement.

"Let go of me!" Ryou swore, kicking at his legs. "This is all your fault, you - you bastard!"

A stab of guilt hit Bakura, as well as a wave of pain as Ryou's shoe connected with his shin.

"Calm _down_, host." Bakura snarled as the teen thrashed wildly.

"I will not _calm down_!" Despite his words, Ryou drew in closer to himself. Bakura looked down at him in confusion.

"Spirit." Ryou whispered. "He...he..."

"He?"

Both Bakura and Ryou jumped at Malik's voice. He lounged in the doorway.

"Please, Spirit, get me out of here!" Ryou babbled, shaking Bakura by his shoulders. The spirit stared at him, his eyes wide; he'd never seen Ryou react like this, never asked him for help, not even when his schoolmates had threatened him or otherwise. He continued to plead. "Please, help me!"

"Shut up." Bakura breathed, taking a hold of Ryou's face. "Listen to me. Look at me. Stop panicking. I'll help you."

Ryou stilled, looking up at him with hope.

"Oh, really?" Malik scoffed with undisguised scorn. "And just how do you propose to do that? He doesn't need saving."

"Fuck you, Malik." Ryou hissed.

"I have a proposal to make for you." Bakura stared at the wall behind Ryou. "I'll get you out, I promise."

When Ryou didn't respond, Bakura looked down at him. Ryou shivered and swayed in his arms, pulling away with a sudden movement. Malik moved to sit on the sofa comfortably, Ryou sliding into his lap.

"Malik..." Bakura clenched his teeth, struggling to remain calm. It was strange; he'd come to think of Ryou's body of his own, and seeing him straddling Malik like a lap dancer had the feeling of an out of body experience gone horribly wrong. "I have a proposal for you."

"Oh? I'm interested. Please, sit down." He patted the seat next to him calmly.

Bakura glared at him before walking over to take a seat as far away as possible on the small piece of furniture.

"It involves my host. My, ah, former host..." he added hastily as Malik's eyebrow raised.

"Go on." Malik prompted, stroking Ryou's hair.

Bakura took a deep breath.

"Look..." for the first time he could remember, he found himself struggling for words, before continuing flatly. "My host found you physically attractive. I remember that." Bakura said stiffly.

"And you're telling me this because...?" Malik sounded amused.

"He deserves to be happy, okay?" Bakura snapped. "I promised him he could live his life after I got my own body, and I keep my promises."

"You also promised me I could have him." Malik reminded in a casual tone.

"I thought you would keep him aware." Bakura accused. "You haven't changed, have you? The Pharaoh may be fooled, but you're enjoying this too much."

For a brief moment, guilt flashed across Malik's face, but it was gone before Bakura could really be sure.

"I'm sorry, are you trying to make a point here?" Malik sneered. "Because I really don't see one."

"What would the Pharaoh say? They've forgiven you, only to find you've given me a new body and taken Ryou's soul. They'll hate you again." Bakura added with cold satisfaction.

"They won't know." Malik hissed, wrapping his arms around Ryou in a defensive motion and pulling him into his chest. "I can make him seem normal, and they'll never believe _you."  
><em>  
>"I don't expect them to." Bakura shot, leaning back into the sofa with a shrug. "I simply find it ironic. What, is this your idea of 'saving' him from my evil influence, because of your own dark side?"<p>

Malik made no response, looking down at Ryou quietly. When he finally replied, his voice was uncharacteristically measured.

"What are you trying to say?"

Bakura blinked, not expecting his comparison to any have an effect, but continued smoothly nonetheless.

"Like I said earlier," Bakura folded his arms across his chest, "He found you physically attractive." All I'm asking, Malik," he let a slight plea creep into his voice, no matter how it pained him to do so, "Is to take him back to before yesterday. He'll like you naturally. Let him be happy. Do the right thing." he urged.

Malik mulled it over for a minute, biting his lower lip contemplatively.

"...And if he doesn't?"

Bakura blinked, before snorting.

"He's starved for attention because I kept him from people. Show him you like him and he'll cling to you. Besides, he's...sweet. You'll like him better when he's not lifeless., I promise."

Malik glanced at him, a smile flickering on his lips. "_Sweet?_"

Well, that was intimidating of him.

"What do you say?" Bakura growled, avoiding answering.

Malik thought for another moment before smirking. "Fine. I accept, Spirit of the Ring. He can be mine on your terms."

Bakura tried not to look shocked at the easy concession. "Of course." He scoffed confidently.

Malik rolled his eyes, before tilting Ryou's chin up gently.

"Kiss me, love." Malik murmured to Ryou, stroking a pale cheek with his thumb. "The last one for a while." His host - no, former host, he had to find a new nickname, and fast - leaned up to press his lips to Malik's sweetly.

"All right." Malik sighed. "Leave the room. I'll wake him up."

"Why do I have to leave?" Bakura asked suspiciously.

Malik shot him a wry look. "Well, I _am _erasing his memory to just before he arrived. I'm sure he won't be happy with you."

"Oh. Right." Bakura made to leave, before something stopped him. Abruptly, he turned back to a questioning Malik.

"...What did you to him?" Bakura heard himself ask quietly. The look in Ryou's panic-stricken eyes weighed on him.

Malik started, before pursing his lips. After a long pause, he answered.

"We...ah...we had sex." Malik cleared his throat awkwardly, avoiding his eyes.

Bakura examined him for a moment, remembering Ryou's fear, and read between the lines. His host's behavior - /please, save me, help me - suddenly made sense. He swallowed back distaste.

"...I see." Bakura finished curtly. The atmosphere changed.

Malik shifted uncomfortably and weakly backtracked. "He's...like you said. Sweet. I just..."

Bakura cut him off.

"If you want to be a good person so badly, as I assume you told the Pharaoh when he forgave you-" the responding wince told Bakura he had hit a nerve, and he continued coldly, "Try and make sure that you actually are one, and are more than just an actor playing the part."

Malik looked away.

"If that were still my body," he continued in an even tone, "I would kill you. However-" he paused. "However, that is not my body. _That_is some boy I'm repaying a final debt to. If my former host will forget it, I will, too." Bakura gave him a nod, and Malik nodded back gratefully in understanding, looking slightly more confident. His characteristic smirk returned, more like the Malik he had worked with.

"Hurry up, will you?" Bakura almost felt himself smile as he exited. Success. "I'll wait, but I do have places to be. I'm quite popular, you know."

In the room behind him, he heard Ryou cry out.

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